In the not quite so Bleak Midwinter
by cookiemunster
Summary: Christmassy Slashy Fluffy. Based on a famous story about sacrificing something you love so that so that someone else can have the perfect present


**Hello! This was written on the days leading up to Christmas on a cocktail of vintage Bowie tracks, Justice Vs Simian, cheesy Christmas songs, Baileys and a fierce obsession with slash.**

**The story line is based on an old Christmas tale, about sacrificing something you care about because there is someone whom you love more. Yep, it's that fluffy. It's like a marshmallow!

* * *

**

'_**All I want for Christmas is you' **_

Howard grimaced as Mariah Carey warbled out the nauseating chorus of the tacky, commercially regurgitated vomit inducing 'Xmas Hit', which was blaring out from the decrepit jukebox in the corner of the bar.

All around him hung the stench of stale beer, stale sweat and stale emotions. He couldn't count the amount of times he'd ended up in this pub over the last year was some frightening number that only proper mathematicians used, so much so it probably even had letters and equations in it.

But the reason for heading to the dingy little _Devonshire Arms_ always remained the same.

Vince.

Howard sighed harder and decided to concentrate on his drink. Months ago he'd learned that asking for anything other than a pint of bitter would cause looks of such startled suspicion he felt that he'd given the barman the impression that he wanted to rape him. Which of course he didn't.

But now, staring into the foamy black liquid, churning around in the pint glass he realised with a sinking heart that this depressing little bar, with it's decades old tinsel (which was now so bald it was basically a piece of wire with about three bits of glittery plastic stuff on it) and weakly blinking coloured lights was probably the place he felt most comfortable in.

Of course, that made him think of the reason why it was so unbearable to be at home, at work or at any of his more trendy haunts. And again the answer was one thing and one thing only:

Vince.

Howard winced as he remembered their last conversation.

_Vince's cheeks had been glowing from the cold. His eyes had also been glowing with a kind of puppyish excitement. _

"_Hey Howard there's a new club opening on the High Street called Square Box Cubed. I was thinking maybe we could go there later? Get drunk, try our luck with the ladies… Howard?"_

_Howard had tried to carry on reading his book. Just having Vince so close to him was distracting enough._

"_I mean we don't have to go if you don't want, we can just stay in, listen to some Jazz… come on I'm trying hard here." Vince's voice sounded unusually melancholy._

_Howard knew, because of the familiar tug on his heart that __**he **__was the reason Vince was so down. _

_He knew it was unfair. It wasn't Vince's fault that he… but if the only way he could deal with it was to shut him out, then that would just have to be the way._

"_I don't think I can make it out tonight, actually Vince. I've got stuff to do."_

_He was still looking down at the page the book was open on even though the text was swimming before his eyes like wordy worms… worms that swim. You know. Them ones. _

"_Wrapping presents?" asked Vince, unable to keep the edge out of his voice. "Am I even on your present list this year, Howard?"_

"_Vince I-"_

"_It doesn't matter Howard. I'll get out of your hair, yeah?" the younger man stormed out of the room, leaving Howard alone._

He sighed and sipped his drink. There was no way. Juts no way tat Vince would ever understand how he felt about him. How on earth do you turn round to your best friend and say 'Oh yeah, I know we're both apparently straight but yeah, I love you."

Then it hit Howard like a bolt of lightning. Like a light bulb blinking on. Like Roy, the publican, flicking the lights on and off because it was last orders and he wanted the boozers to piss of the homes they had to go to.

Present.

If there was one thing Vince loved more than a sale at Topshop it was a present.

Howard felt a smile spread across his lips. He'd get Vince the prefect Christmas present, then he'd bite the bullet and just say it, exactly how he felt.

_Well,_ Howard reasoned as he left the pub and stepped out in the chilly December air, _Faint heart never one fair lady. Fair __**man,**_ he corrected himself.

* * *

'_**Because we are your friends; you'll never be lonely again' **_

Vince was very aware that he should be having fun.

The blue LEDs on the black Christmas trees sparkled like sapphire jewels. The florescent ceiling lights sparkled down on the black lacquered effect dance floor as the music blasted out from huge speakers, making the whole place throb. All around him achingly cool people were drinking strange coloured cocktails, flicking back their hair, checking their make up and slyly bitching about everyone else in the room. _Square Box Cubed_ was the place to be. And yet Vince didn't want to be there at all.

He self consciously picked at his electric purple long sleeved t shirt, which was slashed through with acid green strips across his stomach. His silver boots sparkled under his turquoise bell bottoms and his jet black hair was partially hidden under a massive black hat, which had a red band, studded with badges, running around it.

If he's been looking he would have seen the appreciative glances of a lot of attractive young men and women eyeing him up. As it was Vince was stood, Flirtini in hand at one of the coolest opening parties of the year thinking about the one person who wasn't in attendance.

Howard.

For some reason, his best friend had turned his back on their friendship and appeared to be doing his level best to keep the hell away from him. And it hurt.

Vince had always known that he must have annoyed Howard on some level. That the constant airhead attitude and the flamboyant fashion sense must grate slightly on one's nerves. But he honestly didn't think that he deserved the cold treatment he'd been receiving from Howard.

Vince sighed. Perhaps Howard had worked it out. But Vince didn't see how he could have done; for one thing he was exceptionally good at keeping his emotions hidden. For god's sake, he'd ,managed to give Howard the impression that he'd wanted to come out and 'check out da laydeez' or something equally lame.

Why couldn't he just be honest with Howard? Maybe it would destroy their friendship once and for all, but at least the older man would know how he felt about him.

It was amazing that Howard had never noticed, Vince thought, almost smiling at the irony. It wasn't really a coincidence that Vince was always dolled up to the nines. Well, he liked to look good but he also hoped that his generic looking mustachioed friend would notice the man under the clothes. But he didn't. He was always distracted by some woman. Mrs. Gideon… some Jazz singer... a librarian. All women…

Vince sighed again. At this rate he was in danger of becoming morbid.

If only he could make Howard see how he felt. That he loved him? There had to be some other way, short of just saying it, that would show how he felt.

Christmas.

It was Christmas! Vince felt his spirits begin to lighten.

He could buy Howard something so perfect, so… _Howard_ that he'd understand! He'd just know!

Vince put his drink down and swept out of the club, leaving half a dozen young people of assorted sexes feeling quite put out, as they were just summoning up the courage to go and speak to him.

* * *

The next morning both Howard and Vince woke early a dressed quickly. Well Vince woke exceptionally early and Howard about two hours later so coincidentally, they were ready at the same time. They met on the stairs, both of them pulling on suitable gear for the lightly falling snow outside.(What? Look, I KNOW it never snows at Christmas in England. But this is a story, ok? We can make believe it for once… or in every single Christmas special anyone has ever seen…) 

"Hi" ventured Vince, just as Howard said "Hello".

They looked at each other and smiled.

"So… what are up to?" asked Howard.

"Last minute Christmas shopping" said Vince. He pushed some of his black fringe off his forehead and it flicked slowly back into place. Howard's fingers itched to push it back again and he had to ball his fists to stop himself.

"That's funny, me too." Howard replied, with a small smile. His scarf was all off centre. Vince wanted to retie it for him. Howard could never dress himself properly. If Vince had his way…

"Well.. I better be.." Vince gestured down the stairs, towards the flat door.

"Oh yeah." Howard said. Neither of them moved, Vince standing at the top of the stairs, Howard a couple of steps lower than him.

Suddenly the flat door flew open and a Bollo, covered in snow hurled himself through it, carrying a massive Christmas tree. Naboo, wearing a festive wooly winter hat (like those they are giving away on the top of Innocent Smoothies) wandered in after him.

They both looked a bit suspicious. Particularly as the Christmas tree already was already decorated. It looked fairly… familiar. But neither Howard nor Vince could place it.

"Hey." they both called to their mystic friends.

"Alright?" said Naboo, his hands in his pockets looking a little to nonchalant.

"Yeah… nice tree…" said Vince.

"Yes. We though. So I said to Naboo, why should we buy one when-" Bollo was cut off mid sentence by Naboo flinging a gloved hand over his friend's mouth.

"Yeah it is nice. We got it from Tescos.." said the small shaman.

"Right. Well. See you later." Howard said confusedly.

"Yeah, Bye Naboo. Bollo." Vince waved as he left, still feeling that the tree was just a little too familiar.

* * *

Howard had been hunting all day. The shadows were getting longer and the streets colder and less crowded. But he still hadn't found it. The perfect gift that would make Vince see how he felt. 

Sighing, he walked into the last shop. A small antique's shop. And there it was the perfect gift, nestling on the shelf in between all the vintage hats and gloves. It was perfect.

* * *

Vince was beside himself with excitement when he spotted it. The woman on the stall at the small London market was not happy to part with it. 

"This is an original pressing you know. Was my dear Albert's, God rest him. The very first recording of '_Blue Christmas_ ' by Johnny Suicide Fingers… it aint cheap."

"How much?" asked Vince, knowing that he'd pay any amount for that record.

"Four hundred."

"Four hundred POUNDS?" asked Vince, incredulously.

"No pence. Of course pounds, cloth ears."

Vince bit his lip. He really couldn't afford that kind of money. But then he thought of how happy Howard would be when he opened it on Christmas morning.

"I only have two hundred. But…you can have my coat." Vince gestured to the neatly tailored deep blue velvet coat he was wearing. It was tapered in at the waist and then flared out again over the legs. It was extremely flattering to anyone, especially as the double row of buttons covered any unsightly bulges. Vince loved it. A lot. But he shrugged the coat off and handed it to her without a second thought.

The women eyed it. She was short and slightly hunched and had a thicker layer of stubble on her face than Vince did when he didn't shave for two days. She pulled it on over her shoulders… and suddenly she was transformed. Her posture changed and the unsightly hump in her back vanished. The colour even went well with her eyes, which Vince could now see were a deep green. She smiled broadly at him, her smile illuminating her actually quite pretty face. If she had a shave, of course.

"This is… lovely!" she said to Vince, still beaming. "Here you go." she handed him the record. "It's free, just as long as I get to keep this!"

Vince smiled back. "Of course you can! Thank you… so much, you don't know what this will mean to him. I mean me."

He turned to make a run through the snow for home. It'd be a cold journey, but he knew it was worth it.

"Oh, luvvie?" called the woman through the falling snow.

"Yeah?"

"Remember that only works on an old style Jefferson 546 Model Record Player!"

"Ok! It'll be fine, he has hundreds of the things!"

"Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas!" Vince called back. He knew it would be.

* * *

Howard burst into the flat, his face red from running and the cold. Naboo and Bollo were sat on the sofa getting merrily stoned next to the Christmas tree. The evening news came on and Naboo surreptitiously changed the channel. 

Howard headed for his room and began frantically searching through his collection of record players until he found it. The Jefferson 546 Model. Grinning he grabbed it, ran out of the flat and back to the little antiques shop.

"Will this do?" he asked the old man, sitting behind the counter.

For a second Howard thought that he would say no. But then a smile spread across the man's wizened features. He picked up a record and slotted it on to the player and the room was filled with sweet harp music.

Howard grinned back at the man.

"So we have a deal?" asked Howard.

"Yes… this is perfect. So I'll let you have the top hat for the player, ok?"

"Great." Howard took a final look over the top hat. It was perfect, deep blue velvet with a black band running round it and one gold button. It matched the coat that Vince wore so well. He knew the younger man would love it.

Howard barely gave a second glance to the Jefferson 546 Model he was leaving behind. The old man hadn't wanted to sell the hat for cash, but when Howard had mentioned a part exchange the man had been more than willing to change it for the extremely rare record player.

"Well you must really care about the young lady, to go to all this effort for her!" grinned the shopkeeper.

"Uh… yeah. _He_ is special." said Howard. No point hiding it now.

The shopkeeper just continued to mile as he handed over the hat box.

"Happy Christmas, mate" he said.

Howard smiled broadly. "Happy Christmas" Howard sensed this would be the happiest yet.

* * *

Midnight on Christmas Eve. Naboo and Bollo were off at some huge party for shamans and their familiars. Howard and Vince were alone. 

Both men felt strangely nervous. Well not strangely nervous. If you were about to confess to your best friend that you loved them then maybe you'd be a little nervous to.

Vince was desperately searching for something to do… then he realised.

"Why don't we open our presents?" he asked Howard.

Howard, relieved that they were no longer sat in silence, readily agreed.

Vince passed Howard the lovingly wrapped record while he selected the hat box, that had been tied with very little skill but a lot of affection with a blue ribbon. They both looked at each other.

"Um… same time?" asked Vince.

"Yep!"

They both opened their presents, with a rising amount of expectation and excitement.

Vince stared at the hat.

Howard stared at the record.

"This is perfect!" they both said at once. Then they both laughed.

"I can't wait to play this! Wow… you have no idea how long I've been looking for it! _Blue Christmas_… it's so rare! Wow I bet you can only play this on a … Jefferson 546..." Howard trailed off.

Vince was trying on the hat.

"This will go absolutely perfectly with my… long blue coat…"

They looked at each other, knowing that they had to let the other person down.

"Howard this is perfect, it really is… but I had to give away my coat to buy your record." Vince stroked the blue velvet longingly.

Howard felt sad… for about 2 seconds. It was actually quite funny. He tried to smother a laugh. Vince looked up, the hurt in his eyes evident as he misinterpreted Howard's laughter as something cruel.

"I thought… you'd be upset." said Vince sadly, trying to keep the tears in his eyes from sliding down his cheeks.

"No Vince- I had to swap my record player for the hat!"

Vince looked at him incredulously. Then he started giggling too.

"We're idiots!" Vince laughed.

"Well only fools fall in love." said Howard and then winced. Oh god. He'd said it.

"What?" asked Vince, his voice devoid of all the mirth that had been there before.

"I said 'Only fools… and Horses is on tonight. I love it." Howard tried to bluff.

"No you didn't… look Howard if you said what I think you said then I say it back. I think." Vince looked at his friend.

"So you think I said something so you say it back but only if I said it first." Howard asked.

"Yeah. I think…" Vince replied.

"Right. So if I kissed you now?" Howard asked, moving closer towards Vince.

"There probably wouldn't be much objection. But only if you did it properly."

"How do you kiss someone properl-" Howard began to say but found himself being cut off. And for the first time, he was kissed properly.

* * *

It was Christmas Day afternoon. Naboo and Bollo were dozing on the floor, full of mince pies and dopamine. Howard and Vince were on the sofa, Howard's arm draped lazily over Vince's shoulder. Howard was wearing Vince's hat. Nothing had been said about Vince and Howard's new relationship except for Bollo asking 'For life or just for Christmas?' They both strongly went for the first option. 

The news came on and no one could be arsed to find the remote. The newscaster with too many teeth began to read the autocue.

"_Yesterday morning, outside Number 10 Downing Street a small child and a very large, hairy man, possibly dressed as a gorilla were spotted stealing the Prime Minister's Christmas tree. The culprits have not been found."_

Naboo and Bollo looked guiltily at each other. Howard and Vince looked accusingly at them. They all looked at the tree, which just stood there looking like a slightly bent tree.

"You stole the tree from outside the Prime Minister's house?" asked Howard.

"In full view of the general public?" added Vince.

Naboo and Bollo nodded. "Yeah" they chorused.

"Cool!" said Vince.

"I'll open another bottle shall I?" asked Howard.

And a very merry time was had by all!

* * *

**Sorry about the short ending, but it's Christmas Eve!! Songs 'All I want for Christmas is puke... I mean YOU' by Mariah Carey and 'We are your Friends' Justice Vs Simian. I don't own either**

**Merry Christmas and an extremely happy, lucky and safe New year to all! Love Cookie xxx**


End file.
